


fun size

by thunderylee



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Magic, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2019-01-16 21:04:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12350619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Tamamori wakes up 10cm smaller.





	fun size

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for cotton candy bingo (minatures).

The world is a much bigger place from ten centimeters down. Tamamori was this height before his growth spurts, of course, but that was a long time ago. He doesn’t remember everything being so high up.

“Whoa,” Miyata says, eyes big as he looks down. “What happened to you?”

“I can see up your nose,” Tamamori tells him with a frown. “It’s gross.”

Miyata covers his nose and drifts off, looking bewildered as he nudges Fujigaya and Yokoo. The three of them whisper and glance over, making Tamamori’s ears burn. He’s not used to being talked about behind his back—usually they make fun of him to his face, but just when he spaces out or falls on his ass. There haven’t been any vindictive jabs for years, and while the three of them are probably just concerned, it still doesn’t feel very good.

The others arrive, and Tamamori huffs when even Senga is taller than him. It’s interesting to lean his head on Senga’s shoulder, though, which Senga loves judging by the way he hugs Tamamori for longer than usual. Tamamori imagines that Senga doesn’t get to be taller than someone very often, unless that someone is female or Kitayama.

Speaking of Kitayama, Tamamori can look right into his face for the first time in years, since he’s been old enough to think of him as an equal.

“You shrank,” Kitayama states the obvious.

“Dryer malfunction,” Tamamori replies, because even he’s got jokes, and Kitayama’s mouth splits into a grin. It’s a nice sight, Tamamori admits; it seems he misses a lot from so far up. “Looks like I’m hanging out down here with you today.”

“Happy to have you,” Kitayama says, and Tamamori can’t tell if they’re still being facetious or not.

Practice happens and it turns out Tamamori’s a much better skater when he’s not all stretched out, which gives him some sense of justification in blaming his lack of motor coordination on his height. He was fine before then, he swears, but then he got all of these extended limbs and he hasn’t quite been able to balance them all yet. Maybe he’ll stay like this forever; the three frontmen would be much more symmetrical, anyway.

“Want to see what’s awesome about being short?” Kitayama asks him after practice, eyes sparkling even though the rest of his body looks tired.

“I’m exhausted,” Tamamori tries to beg off, but Kitayama won’t hear of it.

“You may be back to your normal height tomorrow,” Kitayama insists, pulling Tamamori by the arm much easier than he would have before. Tamamori allows himself to be dragged down the hall and into the nearest stairwell, where he makes a face at the thought of using _stairs_ until he finds out that they’re going _underneath_ them.

Tamamori’s already ducking on instinct before he learns that he doesn’t have to. He smiles at the realization. “I can fit under the stairs!”

“You can fit in a lot of places,” Kitayama says, pointedly like he’s saying something really dirty, and Tamamori doesn’t get it until his back hits the wall and Kitayama’s in his face, right at eye level.

“Um, Kitamitsu?” Tamamori asks, flattening himself to the wall as much as he can as Kitayama steps closer. “I don’t see how standing under the stairs is so awesome.”

“Be quiet and you’ll see,” Kitayama tells him, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leans in to brush their lips together. Tamamori squeaks in surprise, but then Kitayama’s body is pressed against his and Tamamori doesn’t much mind the way it feels, Kitayama’s hard muscles and strong hands more than talking him into it.

What is the most interesting is kissing someone the same height as him; he definitely wasn’t kissing before his growth spurts, nor have they found any exceptionally tall women to be on Busaiku yet. It’s nice to not have to strain his neck, giving him a much better angle from which to taste all of Kitayama’s lips. He can lift his arms around someone else’s shoulders for once, feeling Kitayama’s at his waist, and it doesn’t take much more ‘talking’ to hoist him up against the wall, legs spreading enough for Kitayama to fall between them.

“Oh,” he says, and Kitayama just nods as he grinds them together, hard and fast. Their kiss deepens, tongue swirling so intense that Tamamori’s head spins, his coherence dwindling as his arousal heightens and he starts pushing back, desperate for the friction.

“Mm, you want to do more?” Kitayama asks, and now Tamamori’s the one nodding, helpfully lowering his hand to grope Kitayama because he’s not one to waste time. “Impatient.”

Tamamori whines at that, fully prepared to remind Kitayama that this was entirely his idea and he better put out, but he’s halted by the sound of footsteps approaching the stairwell. His eyes widen, but Kitayama holds a finger between their lips and licks around it, returning to Tamamori’s mouth as he brings his hands to Tamamori’s belt.

Right away Tamamori sees the appeal of this, being tucked away where no one can see them unless they’re small enough to fit—which many of the juniors would be, actually. Another practice session must have just let out, because there’s a long trample of feet and incessant chatter that has Tamamori kissing Kitayama harder, sliding fingers into his hair and tugging lightly when Kitayama’s faint moan tickles his tongue.

It’s easier to get out of your pants when you’re shorter, too, even if it’s only one leg and they’re already most of the way rolled up. Kitayama pulls something from his pocket and messes with it for a second, then slick fingers are slipping between Tamamori’s legs that spread even more at the touch. Kitayama guides Tamamori’s bare knee up over his hip, pulling them closer, and Tamamori makes quick work of the fastenings of Kitayama’s pants until he’s got a hand around Kitayama’s cock.

Kitayama hisses into his mouth, snapping into Tamamori’s touch as he gradually pushes a finger inside Tamamori. It’s far from Tamamori’s first time like this, which is good because nobody’s first time should be under the stairwell at work, though there’s something to be said about the thrill of the location. There isn’t a crowd of people anymore, but it’s common enough that the sounds of sporadic footsteps or someone talking on their cell phone will remind Tamamori that they are very much not alone.

It helps his body adjust to Kitayama’s probing, accepting two fingers and then three, though now both of his legs are wrapped around Kitayama’s waist and he’s rocking down against the touch. His kisses have grown fiercer, only Kitayama’s lips and tongue to muffle the moans he can’t hold back, which just add to the possibility of getting caught and make Tamamori even hotter.

“You have to be quiet,” Kitayama tells him, and Tamamori bites back his next noise as Kitayama touches him somewhere deep and sensitive. “Even though I’m going to make you scream.”

“Kita—” Tamamori starts, but he’s cut off when Kitayama pulls out his fingers and replaces them with something much larger, already sheathed. Tamamori doesn’t recall hearing the sounds of a condom, but he wouldn’t put it past Kitayama to be an expert at being silent at it.

“Relax,” Kitayama says, giving Tamamori no choice but to do exactly that as he starts to push in. He goes slowly at first, letting Tamamori get used to the stretch, his own body shaking when he bottoms out. “Oh fuck, Tama-chan.”

“Shh,” Tamamori hisses, completely ornery, and he deserves the sharp thrust he gets in response. He nearly chokes trying to bite back his moan, which Kitayama has to notice since he does it again, and again, until Tamamori’s clutching to his shoulders and bouncing between the wall and Kitayama.

He doesn’t feel nearly as big and gangly as he usually does like this, his arms and legs looping neatly around Kitayama as Kitayama presses his face into Tamamori’s neck and nips the sensitive skin there. His groans are more vibration than volume and they make Tamamori even more turned on, his breath audible each time his neglected cock bumps either of their chests.

“You’re gonna have to—” Kitayama gasps out, all breath and no voice “—do it yourself. If you wanna get off. I have to…have to hold you up.”

It’s even hotter to hear Kitayama start to fall apart like that, which is the main reason Tamamori pries a hand out of Kitayama’s hair to wrap around himself. Now he _really_ wants to moan, his body rocking as he finds relief, and Kitayama’s grunts get a little more defined as well. Tamamori feels him start to tremble and strokes faster, quickly bringing himself to the edge, and Kitayama drags his lips up Tamamori’s jaw to his mouth just in time to swallow his noises as he comes over his fingers.

Kitayama’s groan leaves Tamamori’s tongue vibrating, the deafening silence that follows cluing him into the time and place. “I cannot believe we just–”

“Can you wait until I pull out before you freak out like that?” Kitayama asks, his voice a little pained as he carefully withdraws himself and lets out a sharp exhale. “Damn.”

Tamamori’s inclined to agree, even if it’s a little painful to lower his legs and return his pants to a decent state. Then he looks down and makes a face at the wet spot on his shirt, glad that he hadn’t gotten around to zipping up his jacket before Kitayama had ambushed him in a stairwell.

“Anything else awesome about being short?” he asks, mostly sarcastic as he remembers how to walk.

“You have an advantage at laser tag,” Kitayama answers. “But effort.”

Tamamori silently agrees and heads home to change, secretly hoping he’s still Kitayama-sized the next day. He’s always wanted to do it comfortably in the backseat of a car.

Unfortunately, his feet are hanging off the bed in the morning, and he’s stumbling all over the place even worse than usual after spending an entire day with a different equilibrium. Everyone seems so small, especially Kitayama who just shrugs apologetically like being the same height is the only way they can be together.

Of course, there are advantages to being tall too, for which Kitayama can’t find any argument when Tamamori lifts him to his own kitchen counter that night.


End file.
